Learning The Hard Way
by Mrs. Agget
Summary: Edward has his sights set on someone, but doesn't realize what's right in front of him. He learns...the hard way.


**AN: Hey y'all. This came suddenly to me one night when my daughter played the song "Jar of Hearts" by Christina Perri. Look it up on Youtube...pretty song, but sad. I needed to get it out so bad that I wrote it out on paper. Hope y'all like it...**

**This hasn't been preread or betaed. I felt the need to post it 'raw', if you will. A big thank you goes to Tatted Heart and Delphius Fanfic for helping me with the title.**

**I don't own Twilight.**

**EPOV**

When I first saw him, I should have known. He was on the dance floor, shirtless, with the club lights painting rainbows on his sweat shiny chest and in his wheat colored curls. He was glorious, but pressed against some black haired, dark skinned man. I watched as they teased each other with grinding, touches, and kisses, and I wanted that man - that enigma wrapped in sweaty skin and wheat curls.I should have known.

Emmett tried to warn me. He was there, next to me at the bar. When he noticed that I was detached from our conversation, he looked to see what had caught my attention. When he saw who I was staring at, he shook his head.

"Forget it, man," he told me sadly, probably knowing his words would have little effect.

"Why?" I asked, only half listening.

"He's bad news," Emmett answered. "He hooks up with guys, gets them to fall for him, then dumps them on their asses, usually in public. He's a sick player, dude. Trust me."

When Emmet had told me that, I had laughed and brushed him off. He was my best friend and roommate, and meant well, but I refused to believe that someone as perfect as that blond god on the dance floor could be so cruel. I should have listened to Emmett.

I didn't make my move the night that conversation took place, but every week after that night, I drug Emmett with me to that same club. He didn't like it, but humoured me. His warnings never stopped. He continued to be my best friend, despite our disagreements over that man.

After a month of Fridays, I had finally gotten the guts to go out on the dance floor. I tried to get Emmett to go with me, but he refused, saying he couldn't watch what he knew I was going out there for. So, I went alone.

Once I was out there, I danced, took my shirt off, grinded against some twink I didn't know, all with the hope that Mister Blond God would notice me. Nothing happened that night, but I refused to give up. I swore to myself that I would be there, on that dance floor, every Friday night until he noticed and acknowledged me.

For the next six weeks, I kept my promise and danced, despite Emmett's efforts to get me to go anywhere else. At the time, I didn't realize how unfair I was acting toward Emmett; I had my mind set on one objective. Nevertheless, Emmett endured my injustice.

Taking the time to actually count back, I realized I had been persuing that man, whose name I didn't even know, for three full months. Maybe three was the magic number, because on the thirteenth week, out on that dance floor, a pair of large hands landed on my shoulders.

My eyes had been closed, and when I opened them, there he was. Sweaty blond curls hanging in his face, the bluest eyes I had ever seen, pink, full lips, and dimples that would make a nun blush.

"Hey sugar," he had drawled in a sexy smooth Texan voice. "Wanna dance?"

And with those four words, I was gone. Smitten, Under his spell. And for two weeks, that's where I would stay, oblivious to what my actions did to everyone else in my life. Especially Emmett.

During those two weeks, I wouldn't talk to anyone. I was so cocooned in the Texan's spell he had so effortlessly weaved around me, no one else mattered or existed.

Every night for those two weeks, I was at the Texan's beck and call. Anything he asked for, I did, and every night, when I would say goodbye to Emmett, he would nod sadly at me from the couch, choosing to remain silent.

In the short time I was under the Texan's spell, more often than not, I would go home hurting, and more than once, bloody.

Even though I tried to go in the apartment quietly, Emmett would be there, waiting up for me. He cleaned me up tenderly, never saying a word, but he didn't need to. His eyes told me everything.

The night before my whole world crashed down around me was the worst. I had arrived home later than usual from my rendezvous with the Texan, in such pain I had never known.

He had had a friend over, intent on a threesome. I didn't want it, and, long story short, I got it anyway. Both of them. At the same time.

As usual, Emmett was there when I opened the door, and I practically fell into his arms. I was crying, bleeding, and completely embarrassed.

wordlessly, Emmett had picked me up and took me into the bathroom. He started the bath and stripped me out of my clothing. I was so numb by my experience, I wasn't even able to be embarrassed when Emmett pulled my bloody briefs over my feet. He kicked the pile of my tainted clothing away in disgust.

Still silent, Emmett had helped me into the tub and, so carefully, washed me from head to toe. I could do nothing but cry, and when Emmett washed my most private areas, he had tears running down his cheeks.

When he had finished bathing me, he helped me out of the tub and wrapped me in a large fluffy towel. With a look of disgust at my bathwater, tinged pink with my blood, he lifted me into his arms again and carried me to his bed, where he laid me down, still wrapped in the towel, and pulled the blankets over me. Carefully, I turned on my side, clutched the pillow, and cried.

The bed shifted and I knew Emmett had laid down next to me. It didn't phase me at all. But before the bliss of sleep could claim me, I felt strong fingers stroke my hair, followed my a muffled sob.

After that awful night, I thought it was the beginning of the end for me. Determined to find out why the Texan had done what he did. So, with the unpleasant feeling of ointment on my ass, with Emmett in tow, I went back to the club one last time.

I was unprepared for what greeted me when Emmett and I walked through the door. The Texan wasn't on the dance floor; he was at the bar, talking about his latest conquest, Me.

He was telling everyone how I was such a waste of his time; how my virgin ass couldn't handle two cocks, and how he had sent me home crying and bleeding "like a pussy bitch".

Everyone was laughing and when they saw me, the taunts started. It felt like everyone in the whole club was throwing insults. My embarrassment had taken over and everyone's slurs were whirling through my head, making me dizzy.

The next thing I knew, I had woken up in Emmett's bed, again, with his arms around me and his tears on my shoulder.

My loud sob let him know I was awake, and he said nothing, just held me as I sobbed out my embarrassment, shame, and grief against his chest.

It felt like I cried for hours. I apologized to Emmett over and over for shunning his friendship and warnings, and all he did was rub my back and try to shush me. I didn't deserve Emmett. He should have said "I told you so" or something, but he didn't. Instead, he held me all night, cried with me, and forgave me over and over for my foolishness.

It took a while, but slowly, I began to heal. Emmett and I had stopped going to that club, or any clubs, for that matter, opting to stay home and play poker or watch movies, with friends.

Over the course of the next year, my depression had gone completely and everything was back to normal between Emmett and I. And throughout that year, I thanked God over and over for Emmett. With everything I had been through and put him through, he had stoically remained the one constant thing, or person, in my life. I would forever be indebted to him...

Soft lips pressed against my neck brought me back to the present. Focusing on the image in the mirror in front of me, I watched my husband of just a few hours wrap his arms around my waist, pulling me to him.

"Its time to go," he murmured against my skin, and I couldn't help smiling happily into the mirror, resting my hands on top of his on my stomach, looking at the way the light caught the gold of our rings.

Raising his head, with its mess of black curls, Emmett met my eyes in the mirror. He gave me a toothy, dimpled grin and I knew he had seen our rings together too.

Overcome with emotion, I whispered, "I love you so much, Emmett. Now let's get out of here so we can start our honeymoon."

Emmett responded with a breathtaking smile followed by a searing kiss.

**Thank you for reading.**

**Penny**


End file.
